


Can You Hear Me (us)?

by Ibenholt



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: AU, Family Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-04
Updated: 2013-08-04
Packaged: 2017-12-22 08:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/911192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ibenholt/pseuds/Ibenholt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Londo can never have a moment's peace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can You Hear Me (us)?

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Suffer the Innocent (For Our Mistakes)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/445796) by [Avelera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avelera/pseuds/Avelera), [Ibenholt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ibenholt/pseuds/Ibenholt). 



Someone is jumping on his bed again. He pulls the covers over his head and groans, but it’s just as futile as always.

“Papa, papa, you have to wake up!” Sannel drags the cotton and silk away from his numb fingers. 

“And why should I do that, my dear?” Her hair is standing around her head like a thin, black cloud. Judging by the missing meters of Narn in his bed, it will be his job to groom her today. And why not? She sits down and taps the soles of her slippers together, “Because daddy said so!”

“And when exactly did we start to listen to your father, hm? I know that I don’t.”

“That’s bad, papa.”

“Yes, I suppose. Now, come here!”

He picks her up and carries her over to the mirror and little stool there. While he finds the brush and tames the dry locks, she chatters away about things that are either obvious or that make no sense. Why do they sound so special today? He braids her hair like he has done many times before and holds her hand when they go to the kitchen where G’Kar is making breakfast. He tastes like japoti batter when he kisses him, and when he leans in to kiss him once more, the Narn asks him where this eagerness is coming from.

He helps Sannel up on her chair before sitting down himself and he finds that he is smiling. Not because he knows that the questionable stew G’Kar presents him with will surprise him with a more or less agreeable taste, but because it is so familiar and so new at the same time. He starts to eat, but suddenly, there's a small hand on his wrist. 

“Papa, don’t go.” Sannel looks very serious, and Londo thinks to himself that she looks almost too much like her grandmother. He smiles and tells her that he is not going anywhere. Actually, he cannot remember if he has any appointments today. Or tomorrow. Or next week, even.

“Mollari, stop that.” G’Kar sounds scared and Londo starts to feel annoyed. There is no reason to make the meal unpleasant, even if they are just joking.

“Stop what? I am not doing anything.” His spoon falls out of his hand when he sees that it is gloved.  
The room has become dusty and dark. G’Kar is in his usual clothes, but there is a patch over his eye. Sannel keeps growing until she is almost twice as tall, but even if her face matures, her expression remains the same. The table stretches while it’s slowly being covered by a white rag spotted with blood. He cries out and knocks over his chair when he gets up. The ground shakes and suddenly he is being pushed back into the chair, which is now the throne. Thin, black hooks bite into his wrists and ankles, holding him in place.

G’Kar lunges at him, and his fingers curl around his throat. In the corner of his eye, he can see Sannel dressed like a palace guard, dragging two withered, grey figures out of the throne room. G’Kar forces his gaze back to himself just in time for him to feel the last of his breath escape his lips. 

The golden curtains surrounding his bed are too thin to keep the sunlight out, but that is the least of his concerns. His throat is dry and his hoarse breath comes out like a growl from the animal he was named after when he was young. He is insane now, not crazed. He is an alcoholic wreck that can barely stand on his own. The pale and lonely shadow in the midst of the city’s heart. That is at least what they whisper about in the court, the dramatic bunch that they are. But even if he knows the truth, his views are slowly melting with theirs.

There are dozens of children in the court, but none of them are his, so no one is jumping up and down and demands that he wakes up. None of them speaks to him, because even their absent fathers warn them that the emperor isn’t always himself. They think he will be so drunk that he will lash out and hurt their heirs.

He is hungry until he remembers that food does not taste nearly as good as it once did, and that he will not see anyone prepare it. It will just be set before him by a servant who will be eager to leave. He longs for a drink, but knows that those drops are too precious to waste. It is too early to rise, but he is not certain how he can go back to sleep when he can still see G’Kar choking him. And what about the little lady? How can he stand to see her make another expression or move in a way that will remind him that she is his? 

The keeper moves slightly as he goes over the dream again. How awful it must be for Shiv’kala to know that he has such an advantage, but that he lacks the necessary components to actually pressure him further. That thought relaxes him, and he will need it, because this new dream will haunt him for months.


End file.
